


Hold me like you held on to life

by Gabrielique (Sacchan90)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Montprouvaire week, mention for Eponine Azelma and Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:43:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sacchan90/pseuds/Gabrielique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> He can barely handle the anticipation and his heart starts beating faster and his mind starts thinking quicker, in the attempt to complete the poem as soon as possible.</i><br/>When did he start to look forward to share his blood with a vampire?<br/>Does Montparnasse feel the same quiet, electrical excitement? Of course he does, he’s the one getting his prey.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold me like you held on to life

**Author's Note:**

> Vampire!AU, where actually only Montparnasse is a vampire and Jehan is a human.   
> They are in a kind of relationship, and Jehan let Montparnasse drink from him regularly. That's what you have to know, I guess, there is not really a lot of background story.
> 
> Written for the MontProuvaire week on tumblr, so this is actually very quick, sorry.
> 
> As always, I am still italian and without beta, so all errors and mistakes are mine and I am sorry for them.

A noise forces Jehan to look behind him, at the open window that let in the light of the stars and the street lamp.

“Can you, at least, pretend to use the front door?” he asks at the dark shadow blocking the view.

The shadow step closer, revealing itself as a young boy with a perfect smirk on his face. “Why, a window is a better entrance.”

“Careful, that’s abuse of vampire privileges.” Jehan says with a shy smile.

In the blink of an eye, Montparnasse is next to the other boy, looking with some interest at the poems on the desk.

“You are writing.”  he says as if it’s something new, when it’s actually the contrary. He keeps his attention to the poems for a very short time, instead he turns his attention to the reason why he’s there and he looks at Jehan.

“Yes.” Jehan answers, not able to say anything else, not when Montparnasse is looking with those sharp eyes that still shine with some kind of life sparkle. And suddenly he knows it’s one of _those_ nights. “Nothing important I can finish later.”

“No.” Montparnasse says with his cold voice, a hand on Jehan’s shoulder to keep him on the chair. “Finish this first, I can wait.”

And this is how Jehan ends up with a  vampire elegantly sprawled on his bed. A year ago he would have laughed at the thought.

As he writes, he can feel Montparnasse’s gaze on the back of his head, it’s a strange sensation because all his senses deny the presence of someone else (there aren’t the little sounds that someone alive makes even if involuntarily) , but he knows he’s not alone and he’s watched.

He can barely handle the anticipation and his heart starts beating faster and his mind starts thinking quicker, in the attempt to complete the poem as soon as possible.

When did he start to look forward to share his blood with a vampire?  
Does Montparnasse feel the same quiet, electrical excitement? Of course he does, he’s the one getting his prey.

Time pass, and not a single sound fills the room except for the sound of Jehan’s pen on the paper, but he still knows the other is still there, watching him, testing him, and –hopefully, being fascinated by him.

The last word of the poem is written quickly (too quickly, the next morning he will not able to read it.) and Jehan finally turns around, a simple gesture that is also a very meaningful one.

Montparnasse stretches a hand in Jehan’s direction, and the invitation is accepted immediately.

Jehan kneels on the mattress in front of Montparnasse and –finally- their lips meet in a cold kiss, even if it’s not as cold as usual, he must admit.

“I could hear the beating of your heart.” Montparnasse whispers an inch from Jehan’s slightly opened lips, waiting for another kiss. “I could hear the blood run into your veins.” He adds tracing Jehan’s face with cold fingers. “You want this as much as I want it.”

He had other humans who let him feed from them without complaining, Eponine and little Azelma, or even Grantaire and his desperate wish to feel alive in a near-death experience; but none as willing as Jehan.

“Will you give it to me, my dear?”

“What I have is yours to take.”

No, none as willing as Jehan.

“Calm, I still can hear your heart beating like a war drum.” He whispers gently, even if the memories of war drums aren’t so gently. “I will not hurt you.”

“I know.” Jehan closes his eyes trying to hold on the memories of all the time they already did this, and yet his heart beats fast with trepidation.

Montparnasse slowly moves Jehan’s hair to expose the place and delicate skin of his neck. He Can smell it, the red prize under a thin layer of fragile skin.

Jehan waits, his mind already anticipating the actions preparing himself for what will come.  
It’s not more than a few second, but he feels like he’s going insane, and then he finally feels his skin being torn by a pair of long, razor sharp teeth.

His first instinct is to cling to Montparnasse, to get closer, his hands grab the vampire’s shoulder to support himself as the first wave of natural fear leaves him.

Then, it’s only the clear perception of his own blood leaving his body to feed another.

It doesn’t hurt, actually it’s one of the most powerful sensation Jehan ever felt in his life: it’s not like an orgasm that leaves breathless; it’s more subtle, yet very sensual in the absolutely absence of pain and in the great intimacy.

Montparnasse holds him and drinks; he drinks and hold him like it’s the most fragile being in the universe.

Jehan can feel his body get weaker and weaker by the seconds, and then his body tense and he can’t control anymore his survival instinct.

“Montparnasse.” The name comes out as a moan from his lips, hiding the rising panic.

When the adrenaline kicks in, forcing Jehan to try to escape the –possibly- deadly embrace, Montparnasse holds him tighter in his arms, almost ignoring the plea.

His mouth is full of blood that slowly goes down his throat, thick and warm. _Delicious_.  
Every drop bursts life in his not dead yet not alive body, and it’s only when he feel Jehan’s heart beating frantically that he stops.

Another moan escapes Jehan’s mouth, a painful one this time, when the teeth are removed from his neck. His fingers, trembling as they are, don’t find any trace of the broken skin.

Killing may give him a thrill, but is sparing a life that shows Montparnasse the true entity of his power. He brings Jehan closer for a kiss, who, despite his spinning head, can still taste blood –his own blood-.

With a kindness that is really strange in a vampire, Montparnasse helps Jehan to lie down on the bed and let him calm down.

Jehan’s head feels light, it spins, and for a while he doesn’t dare to open his eyes, instead he focuses on the hand stroking his hair, and the other holding his.

“ _Jean_.” Montparnasse calls softly. “Touch me.” But before the other can do it, he brings the hand he’s holding to his face.

The strange sensation makes Jehan opens his eyes so quickly that the room spins faster. “How..” he says. “You…your skin…” he caresses the vampire’s lips with his fingers. “It’s… _warm_.”

“I have some tricks up my sleeve.” Montparnasse smirks.

“Let me guess: _blood_.” Jehan says already knowing the answer. “So much blood that you can fake being human?” even if the idea that he fed from someone else makes him uneasy, he can’t stop touching the warm skin that usually is as cold as marble.

“I am not faking, I am _pretending_.” Montparnasse corrects leaning down for a kiss. “How does It feel?”

Jehan closes his eyes again, gladly, when Montparnasse kisses his jaw. “Not you.” He whispers. “I want my marble god back.”

Montparnasse giggles against Jehan’s throat. “You will have him sooner that you think.”

Satisfied with the answer, Jehan reclines back his head, exposing his throat to Montparnasse, feeling just a slightly fear when he feels cold teeth scratching the skin, not enough to leave any mark. For a moment, he’s absolutely conscious of how easy would be to die in his bed in this very moment.

“How will this end?” he asks absently. “For what I know this can end up only in two way: either you will kill me one day, or you’ll share your gift with me. Which one will be your choice?”

“Which one would _you_ choose?” Montparnasse asks back, bringing one of Jehan’s hand to his lips, kissing it, and then placing another skin on the waist. The blood sings to him, inviting him, even if he’s not hungry. “Both are very easily for me.”

“I’d choose spending eternity with you.” Jehan replies. Is he asking for it? Does he really wants to be turned into a creature of the night, a predator driven only by blood?

There is the earnest sincerity in Jehan’s eyes, and Montparnasse finds it hard to ignore it. “But this is not how it will end. You will not die either. You’ll live Jehan.”

A third option he never contemplated. “I’ll live?” Jehan frowns confused.

“Yes, you’ll live.” Montparnasse kisses him again, brushing a lock of hair from Jehan’s forehead. “Eternity is empty, Jehan; long and boring. You are not made for eternity, you are made for life, your soul and your art would die with time, and you will lose what makes you so precious and unique.”

Jehan stares confused at Montparnasse, wanting to say something, but not daring to.

“In eternity you would wither, like flowers picked up for their beauty. You are a little flower, beautiful with such exquisite colors, made for admiration. Giving you the gift would mean condemn you to slowly lose yourself.”

“So you’ll let me live, and I’ll grow old and you’ll just forget about me?”

“I’ll never leave you, Jehan, I am really interested to see what you can do in your life.” Montparnasse answers gently.

“You say that now.” Jehan points out. “But will you still love me when I’ll be old and grey and youth will be only a memory ?”

“For someone who can’t age, nothing is more fascinating that aging.” Montparnasse explains, he can already see some lines formed by all the times Jehan smiled in his life, and one day he’ll see more and he would read a story of a great life.

“So this is how it will end, you’ll let me live a mortal life and you will stand on my grave?” Jehan laughs a little. “This is not what I expected, at all.”

“I’d give you the gift nobody gave me, Jehan: a full life.” Montparnasse promises. “Because I don’t have to chain you to me with some tricks. I’ll stay because I know you’ll stay.”

“Did I earned a vampire’s trust?” Jehan asks surprised.

“Don’t be a fool, you can’t earned something that doesn’t exist.” Montparnasse shakes his head. “But you earned my attention and my time.”

“I think it’s enough.” Jehan whispers thoughtfully. He sighs and decides that there is no need to talk more about the topic. “Tell me again about the June Rebellion of 1832.”

**Author's Note:**

> The end is not an end, I know, I am sorry, but I really couldn't think of anything better at all.
> 
> The title is taken from Vampire Heart by HIM.
> 
> My tumblr is still drunkpylades, come and say hi if you like?


End file.
